


Short-lived Gallantry

by majycka



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Edo Period, F/F, Red Light District, Samurai Champloo inspired, angsty ending, ramen stalls!, this ship will always be the end of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majycka/pseuds/majycka
Summary: A fugitive stalled her journey upon meeting a girl under the ramen stall of a rainy town.
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss & Ymir, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Short-lived Gallantry

**Author's Note:**

> *Koban - an oval gold coin used as a monetary unit during Edo period Japan.  
> *Push pole - A long thick stick used to propel a no motored boat.

The grey skies pattered weak drops on the roof, playing rhythms on its surface, that sheltered soup and noodles. The hanging red flags fluttered as the breeze blew Ymir’s back. She squirmed on the wooden stool and kept her squinted eyes to the vendor who’s puffing her cheek like she's underwater. 

"You got a problem?" Ymir’s fist banged the wooden counter. Her stomach let out a menacing growl.

The vendor jumped and shook her head, swaying her ponytailed brunette. She twitched a smile, cheeks still puffed, but Ymir pinned the same intimidating stare like she’ll jump over the counter and claw the vendor’s eyes out.

"Sasha, are you nibbling those ramen toppings again?" A dainty voice snapped this tension.

The vendor, Sasha, hopped back, inhaling a great deal of air. "No, I-I was not!" 

From the cramped corner came the golden wheat locks, the owner of the voice that froze Ymir: a blonde girl dressed in pink kimono and her low ponytail hung some hair strands on her cheeks.

The girl also stopped. Her ocean eyes and Ymir's moon grey ones turned into wide plates, locking to each other. A pause. They seemed frozen in time except for Sasha.

“Um...” voiced Sasha whose eyes furiously flicked between them.

The spell broke when the ocean eyes shrunk into closed slits and a smile stretched on her lips. Sasha caught her nose twitching.

Ymir blew a sigh. An amusing smile creeped into her lips while the blond took her order, not batting any more disgust. 

‘How delightful! A goody two shoes,’ thought Ymir.

"Do you know her, Historia?” Sasha whispered to her fellow blonde vendor. Their backs now turned to Ymir and in front them, a steam came out from the boiling pot enclosing Sasha with a ladle in her hands.

"I think...I saw her before." A satisfying plop came from the bowl as Historia slipped the twirled noodles off the chopsticks.

"And does she smell weird to you, or is that just me?"

Historia nudged Sasha’s arm, shooting a cautious glare to her. Yet Sasha’s words still rang clear to Ymir's ears, and instead of firing remarks to Sasha, her immediate senses shot signals to lift her robe's collar to her nose. She winced: the remains of last night’s sleep clung to her shabby robe.

The weak patters on the stall’s roof grew into raging bullets. An incoherent rhythm.

Water howled onto Ymir’s cheek, squirming as she remembered her last night’s shivering barenaked self, shoved next to a hill of horseshit while her robe laid on a block of hay, drying. 

"How could you forget an umbrella!" Two pairs of wooden sandals shuffled, belonging to two friends who clattered to the farther stools to take shelter. "It has been merely raining these past days," cried the male one.

"I should have not gone with you anyway. The show's ending was terrible," scoffed his friend. "The lovers ended up killing themselves at the end? Pfft. How pathetic."

People came like a waterfall, crashing their unrhymed footsteps on the muddy ground and popping their round fabric shields over their heads. They spewed out from the theater's curved roofs across the stall. Their colored yukatas sprung life to the empty streets but the apathetic rain cloaked their lively murmurs.

Looking to her right, Ymir weaved her eyes at the crowd's faces but their wide umbrellas enclosed the spaces. She stretched her neck, lifting a bit from her seat, and squinted her eyes above the umbrellas. From afar, a wide silhouette stood out, blurry from the misty rain. 

Her breath hitched. Soon, the silhouette splits into two statues of men: a slender tall and a shorter one but buffer. The pointy hats on their heads shed darkness on their faces. Their gait remained constant as if the rain was nothing to them when it soaked their bodies and dripped from their sheathed swords.

Ymir’s eyes completely turned into inflated balloons. She bowed her head, feeling the steam of her ordered ramen; her stomach growled harder. 

Meanwhile, Historia and Sasha hustled around the stall for a wave of new customers.

Quickly, Ymir tilted her ramen bowl, gulping and burning her throat. Then she slurped the noodles in a single chopstick twirl before leaping out from her stool.

"You!-" Sasha, hearing the prattled stool and witnessing Ymir’s quick departure. "A thief! Some-!" Warm fingers squeezed Sasha’s wrist and glassy eyes staring into her soul. "But His-!" 

"It's okay. She had just one bowl. Let it go."

Sasha bit her lips. "Historia, you just got robbed yesterday and now you're doing this?"

—

After that near encounter at the ramen stall, Ymir was glad to see the town's exit gate shining red below the silver sky: a waving flag of freedom. 

Rain aftermath of mildew altered the street's usual smell. No vendors bellowed to sea of faces with their colorful fruits and leafy vegetables but merely sat behind their stalls that lined the streets, faces as gloomy as the sky. 

Mud sloshing on her toes, Ymir smiled as she threaded at the supposed market. Less people were now with her, and there’s no way someone would stop her right now. 

But a golden glimmer pierced in her and everything about her dropped—her smile and footsteps. With a basket linked on her arms and her widened blue eyes, the golden haired girl caught Ymir to a stop like she was a small rock, tripping people to their sight of freedom.

Historia took a mighty step but instead she lunged forward, her sandals slipping on the muddy ground and met Ymir's chest. The expected Horseshit's scent didn't zipped into Historia's nose. She smelled something else: a musty scent similar from clothes hanging on a washing line.

Ymir grimaced, paying no mind to Historia. Just a few feet in front of her, those individual swords hung on their waist, facing their wide backs to Ymir. She looked down to Historia, and Ymir wanted to smack herself. Through all her burning stares to the crowd, her target hid behind this blond girl's petite figure. Quickly, she spun around, startling Historia and passing big steps, brushing her off.

"Hey!" Historia called out, catching Ymir's wrist. 

Biting her lips, Ymir tried to swing her wrist from Historia's grip, but the men were angling their direction to Ymir. Her moon eyes stared into the ocean ones, pulling her tides as Ymir crawled an arm around Historia's neck. Ymir hunched her shoulders like an old lady and bumped her straw hat's brim on Historia's temple, placing a forefinger on Historia's lips who let Ymir carry their steps to a dingy corner, away from the streets. Unwrapping her arms around Historia, their eyes locked with each other, unblinking. 

"Now, where were we." Ymir touched her chin, looking up. "Aren't you supposed to blast me about yesterday?"

Historia blinked. "Um, w-well, instead of running like that," she answered, "you could have just kindly asked for a bowl and I would have given you one."

Out of all things she can say to her, she said that, and it somehow intruded a chuckle to Ymir's tense lips. "That's a surprising reaction to someone who got robbed twice." She found the girl rather amusing ever since.

"What?" 

"I robbed you twice, didn't I? Yesterday and the day before that. " Ymir spun away from her and peered from the cobblestone corner, her eyes scanning the streets. 

For Historia, it clicked together now. The drenched woman Historia met while crossing the town's bridge who took the chance to whip past her through the secrets of the stormy skies. Then she patted a missing bump in her pocket.

Ymir was outraged upon finding its low contents. 

"It won't matter too anyway..since the ramen will be closing and I won't be outside any longer. I might as well use it to help someone."

Ymir perked her ears to Historia, the dam in her eyes running over on her cheeks as she released abrupt sobs. Intrigued, Ymir gazed at her face buried on her palms. "Was it debt?"

Historia nodded, assuring Ymir's confidence on how this situation was going. 

Memories tucked in the corners of Ymir's brain resurfaced and triggered a picture of her younger self. She still remembered the sensation of cold glass in her finger and the warm red liquid leaking through its edges. The last of fecal breath blew weakly to her nose, feeling the weight pressed down on her.

"You can escape from it."

"I'm not like you."

"You don't know me."

"I do know what you are. After you fled the shop, two men were asking about you, **Ymir**." 

A silhouette appeared on the cobblestone wall: a man whose stretched silhouette can't be compared to his real size. Before he can even unveil himself from the shadows, Ymir fled like a flash and left a quick pat on Historia's head to spark a sense of hope in her.

Historia swiped her sleeves on her cheeks and threw back her mask with the widest phony smile to meet the stout man who’s the cause of her dire fate.

""I knew it that it was your voice, and who was that?" The stout man asked. "Were you crying? Did she hurt you?"

"Oh, It's just some regular customer of the ramen house expressing her thanks, and I.." The maske takes over herself. "..was touched." 

"You'll be moving to the Yukaku tomorrow."

Not even a minute into their conservation, its name was already mentioned: the red light district just situated on this town’s corner. As a child, she wondered why the district only allowed men when it blinked such inviting lights to everyone over the night. She would stand at its gates, witnessing the tip of the iceberg where cherry blossom grows and paper lantern lights. Upon diving beneath the surface, it snatched her childhood innocence and, now, in her teens, it cost her freedom.

"I promise you that I will get you out there as soon as possible. It's just temporary, okay?"

The man assured her.

"Yes, father." Historia smiled wider, and it pained her when stretching her cheeks that much. He’s desperate as he clutches her daughter's hands. Like father, like daughter. Another red curtains closed and both played their facade very well.

—

“Oi, oi, you can’t be serious?!”

“You’ll be staying here ‘till you pay 100 koban.”

“Just for a damn piece of bread!”

“And my debt included.”

Ymir’s stealing schemes finally kicked her back on the face.

She choked as she inhaled the powder that beat her face. A cold paint slid on her lips as they demanded her to pucker them up. Another coldness came on her closed eyelids where it drew a precise line. With a few movements, it finished.

Immediately, the reins of her fingers she has been struggling to pull like riding a crazed horse clamored on her body. This new get up--very unusual from her flowy robe--infested her skin with sweat under layered kimono, and her face was affected too where her fingers smudged the wet cosmetic on her eyelids to a panda’s eye.

her fingers still going all over her body, she goes along with the female pack exiting the room, and it pained Ymir's smell and sight. It reeked of strawberry incense with the bold red curtains hanging around its shoji walls while cushioned benches pressed on them.

The pack remained quiet upon reaching the frontdesk showered with the chandelier light. Ymir suddenly reeled a step back, bumping to her fellow whores who groaned at her. 

Two men stood out in the empty lobby, talking to the lady at the desk who smiled widely that her caked face could crack. The men clank their individual swords with impressive engraving on the wooden desk. Ymir's hands no longer clamored on her body as she drilled her gaze to the ground.

"I'm against this!"

"Berthold, It's just this once."  
  


"But the boss said-"

"Can I have the blond girl? Yes, Krista? Is that her name?"

"Reiner!

"And can you also get one for my friend?"

The desk lady outstretched her arm, a finger pointed behind the men's back. "Hey, you!" 

There, a lightning seems to struck Ymir, jolting and halting in her steps. She slowly turned around like a rusty mechanic, holding her breath. 

The receptionists curled her face to Ymir, immediately changing her mind. "And except for her, there's even more prettier girls you can choose from.”

"No! I t-think I'm-"

"She's perfect," chimed Reiner, grinning widely at his tall companion whose eyes widened to him.

Her leg muscles tightened, and her eyes kept darting at the hallway across from herm, avoiding her gaze to them as much as possible

The desk lady continued to argue. She was Ymir's last hope. But the two men kept dismissing her. 

Ymir's heartbeat doubled in her chest. Keeping a straight face, she surely knew that her thick makeup(including that panda eyeshadow) was enough to cover her face.

”Fine." The desk lady gave in. Glass shatters in Ymir’s insidedes. "Take him as your client." 

And right after those words spilled from her mouth, that’s supposed to bring death to Ymir, the gold glimmered from across the hallway.

\--

"Hey, Krista!"

Soft socks padded on the tatami mats. Her vision zoomed out and the dark spaces weaved between poles of wood: a scene similar inside a-

A hand, shimmering red fingernails, swung towards Krista's temple, and the ringing in her ears faded away. She blinked; the enclosed walls became clear around her. Its front blew a breeze that slipped between the poles of wood, not bringing any chill to Krista layered with Kimono.

"I said, you're up," The voice repeated.

Krista, Historia’s now whore name, dragged her feet like tugging a dog's collar, and followed any voice she was told to do so that led her laying on her back.

She tried to look past that face over her and, looked up at the blinding lamp. The bed creaked beneath her, and pain shoved between her legs, her body reacting to uncontrollable pleasures. She wanted to vomit.

She pressed her forearm on her eyes; no smile cracked on her lips like the way she talked to him about this. Oh, why? she's supposed to be satisfied now, right? The way he tugged on her sleeves, knelt down with tears staining his cheeks—a first occurrence—that made her eagerly nod her head without any second thoughts.

The lamp distinguished its light, and soon, a snore erupted beside her while the window rattled. She stayed wide awake and eyed the shoji door where a sudden tiny slit appeared. Conscious of its movement, it slided open, and a crawling shadow entered.

Historia tensed as it neared her side, clutching the blankets to her chest. She dared to sit up from her bed for a better look. The shadow revealed itself as a raven freckled woman, grinning from ear to ear.

"Y-ymir?" Confused, she watched the gliding woman went to the bed's edge where her hands began digging through the pile of clothes stripped from Historia and her client. "Why? How..how did you get here?" Historia stammered.

"That doesn't matter now 'cause I'm getting out of here." Pulling her hands from the piled clothes, chink gleamed in Ymir's grasp as she pocketed it in her kimono—the sharp metal cold to the touch.

"What? But that's impossible. This place never sle-" 

Ymir placed a finger on Historia's lips as the body squirmed on the bed, shaking the mattress. 

Historia awkwardly acknowledged her client's identity to Ymir to which she spat him a disgusting look. He could chase for Ymir's head all year, and she wouldn't mind but the fact of him touching Historia brought Ymir suddenly wishing for his misery. 

Historia grabbed the kimono from Ymir's grasp with shaking hands. Could it be that a part of her actually wanted to escape?

At the dim hallway, red light illuminated on their faces from a single lantern, and the strawberry candles stung their noses. Historia has her arms crossed, waiting for Ymir.

"I'm now offering you a once of a lifetime of a guaranteed escape with me."

"I refuse." Every time the minor part of her resurfaces, she would always push it down like sinking a corpse into the river.

Giggles of bass and soprano erupted, turning the ladies' heads to the hallway's dark end. Ascending footsteps followed, and Ymir scrambled on her feet and pulled Historia with her to the adjoining door.

The rattling window returned to their ears. Black dots danced to their faces from the moths going around the ceiling light.

"Ymir, what is that?!" Historia gripped on her chest as her broadened eyes fell to the floor and then went up to Ymir. "Is this your room?" 

Ymir nodded, unfazed. 

"What did you do?!"

"Don't scream. There's no blood coming out."

Historia examined the floor again.

"Well, it turns out that this giant here," Ymir confessed, "is too nervous around girls that when I got so close to him, he stumbled and fell." Scoffing, her leg kicked the male body, his tall figure laying on the rocks with poking flowers and grass—a dramatic decoration found in the room's corner when it's considered the town’s famous brothel.

"Was this also the other guy who..?" Historia shook her head, baffled that this was a perfectly orchestrated coincidence. 

"Yes, so help me out here since he's gonna wake up soon." Ymir peeled the bedsheets of the untouched bed. It's fine fabric crease under Ymir's clutch, twisting and knotting its end to another sheet.

"I said I refuse, and why with me? It's more convenient doing it alone." 

"So, you're saying that you wanna die in this hellhole?"

Historia gulped and said: "Yes."

"I heard all about it: you and your father. He's obviously deceiving you but—let me guess,” Ymir paused, glancing down at Historia, "you actually liked it that way."

Her skin bumps stood up along with its tiny hairs. Ymir's words resonated in her brain; it hit over and over like it’s meaning to pierce through her vaulted subconsciousness. She bit hard on her bottom lip. 

"Did you really want to help him, to truly pay his debts, or was there something else you seek?" 

Historia's kimono crisped under her clenched fist.

Ymir continued. "I can see now. Why at the stall you acted like that though I'm not that shallow to give out my respect especially to someone like you."

“Why?..”

Sliding open the window, the lightning flashed and roared on Ymir's face as the wind bewildered her hair. She uncoiled her grip from the tied bedsheets and heard it plopped on the muddy ground below. "There's a temple across the river. They could help you out there." Ymir said, eyeing the faint pole among the grey clouds.

"Why are you taking this far?" repeated Historia. 

"I don't know.”

Fluttering curtains and thundering storms filled the silence; Rain drops smeared to their faces.

“I guess I relate to your struggle.”

Historia twitched her crossed arms, fingers gripping on her kimono. That was enough for her to clasp her fingers around Ymir's wrist and throw herself to their rope. Someone did care for her, and it was someone she barely knew..

A head peaked his head above the bed, just awakening up from his unconscious slumber. He panned his spinning vision to the window where the cold wind blasted, and he screamed: "Ymir!" 

She smirked as she descended down from the windowsill, and the male came running out of the room to look for his partner.

At the same time, the brothel guards, rotting at their gate posts, stirred upon seeing moving figures other than the crashing rain at the empty streets. They immediately came running after them.

Historia’s heart pounded in her chest: neither because of fear nor adrenaline. It was just her and Ymir, hands clasped together, splashing their bare feet on the mud like piglets running from humans chasing them. They twist to numerous house blocks, but the male grunts still grow close to them. 

A dense of trees and leaves pulled them out from their clear yet destructive route. It added friction to their buffed pursuers. Wet leaves slapped to the faces, and branches lapsed to their silky kimono. 

"Do you know where we're going?" Historia's feet started to get numb with the cold mud soaking on her toes. Moreover, she drew deep breaths and puffed thick clouds of mist. 

"Yeah! I can smell the river!"

Their feet stopped into the boggy shore where water algae stunk their noses, inhaling it too much while they tried to catch their breath. The rain began to lull, evident from the light ripples of the river. There, a lone boat danced, bumping wood to wood on the tiny pier. 

Ymir set up the boat days ago, and it remained untouched. Only a maniac would dare to venture at the river when rain continues to disrupt its still waters.

Walking to the pier's edge, they still joined their hands together that only warmed their shivering bodies. Hope resided in them upon seeing the curving eaves, teasing its redness amidst the grey clouds; its finial pole prevailed as prominent as the north star. 

"You're not going anywhere, Ymir!" A voice roared. Branches fell on his feet as he swung his sword. His eyebrows agitated than ever, and his taller partner came scowling to his side.

Historia already leaped to the boat but her hands grabbed tight on Ymir's arm who's still at the pier, the push pole in her other hand. "No, I'm not leaving you!" Historia bellowed, not letting go at this time that she found a true ally.

"GO." Ymir's moon grey ones pushed into those ocean eyes, resisting its pull. Historia heard the two men dashing their heavy feet onto the wooden pier. 

A slice of wind shot on Historia's side of face with a loud thud as the pole passed her. She watched Ymir bend her knees and pushed with all her force, white knuckles protruding on her hands gripping the push pole. Then little by little, Historia’s fingers dragged from a grip, a stroke and lastly, a pinch on the folds of Ymir's kimono sleeves. The warmth no longer touched her, and she froze, white as a sheet, with her arms still stretched out, hoping Ymir’s warmth jump back to her. 

The metal weighing on Ymir’s pocket came into use. Whipping it out, she stood in a stance with the two men surrounding her. 

“That’s no use, Ymir. With the two of us, you’re dead.”

“But I still manage to run away from you these past weeks.”

This only aggravated them as Reiner drove forward. She prepared to duck but didn’t notice Bertold rushing like a speed of light to her. He caught both of her wrists and pressed it onto her back, spinning her around as she was haphazardly pinned face down to the boarded wood of the pier.

With her remaining strength as she lifted her head, Ymir screamed: "PROMISE ME!"

“Ymir!” Swaying the boat, Historia tipped its front. Her ears were all to Ymir whose presence started to befall to the grey mist. 

"PROMISE ME THAT THIS TIME-" 

Reiner slammed Ymir's face back to the floor and she tasted iron in her tongue. But she’ll not let anyone stop her. She tried to push against Reiner's force, twitching and squirming as she lifted her head. She successfully exposed her mouth, and she took a deep breath. "TAKE BACK YOUR LIFE AND LIVE JUST FOR YOURSELF!" 

This time, Reiner backfired her head with a greater thud in an alarming speed. Ymir's vision dived into the ground and faded into darkness. She realized that the final sight of Historia’s departure brought more hope to her than the town’s exit gate.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by Samurai Champloo’s ep 11. If you havent seen this great anime yet, go watch it! 
> 
> Once again, here i am torturing myself with angst as if the ship itself isnt angsty enough lol. Buttttt It’s a joy to finally publish this fic as it has been sitting in my drawer for months due to my  
> constant reediting hehehe. 
> 
> As always, feedback + kudos is loved and constructive criticism is welcomed!


End file.
